Poetry

There are drops of rain
dropping and they are dancing,
on the outside of my windowpane
they are spluttering
 
falling, falling in a great shower
and outside everything is wet and gleaming
while lightning bashes down with great power
and everywhere there is water streaming
 
and here in the cosy comfort of the bed
away is the weariness of the week,
while you breath brushes against my cheek
your lips are slightly open and red
 
and I wonder if why other moments are not like this,
when everything is perfect in the way that it is.